I Regret Nothing
by SkinOfSteel
Summary: Post-film: the adventure continues. A focus on Eames and Arthur, but is an ensemble piece. Lowered the rating as so far this has been very tame, but no promises it'll stay that way! This is also my first fanfic, so be kind but reviews are welcome. Disclaimer: I own nothing but embellishments.
1. Chapter 1

Eames stood in the arrivals hall, leaning slightly on his suitcase. He would go and find a cab; there were plenty he could see, lined up, through the glass airport doors. But still he lingered. He dismissed the action; he was in no hurry, there was no reason why he should have to leave immediately.

So he remained, casually studying his fingernails and passers by. Cobb had already left. Now, there was someone with reason to hurry. This was big for him, and Eames could empathise. He wished him all the best. It would be quiet on the circuit without Cobb's well-known presence, but he deserved to have some peace and quiet. Plus, Eames had an inkling he wouldn't be quiet for long. He loved it as much as the rest of them.

Yusuf sidled up to him on his way out. "So. Nice seeing you." he said, and Eames chuckled quietly; they were still in the slightly euphoric post-job haze. All stewing adrenaline, not quite believing they'd pulled it off.

"You too, old friend. And won't be long before the next time, I suspect".

"You're probably right," Yusuf smiled, "bills needing to be paid and all. Until then." Eames nodded verification, and Yusuf carried on through the doors.

Saito and Fischer were being escorted out by their respective entourages, which looked almost ironic having the two side by side. Eames caught Fischer's eye momentarily, and the man registered him with casual recognition. Poor bloke, he really had no idea. Eames was aware that their job could be seen as abuse, but it was just the way things were. Breaking into someone's mind was as commonplace as breaking into their home, and whilst occasionally he contemplated its morality, he couldn't help but feel he was long past that famed 'point of no return'. Besides. He didn't kill people; he just considered himself somewhere between an actor, a spy and a petty thief.

Here they were. Not that Eames had been waiting for them, it was merely coincidental that he was still in the lobby when Ariadne and Arthur ambled towards the exit. They seemed lightly in conversation, but veered towards Eames nonetheless. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Still here?" Ariadne stated rather than questioned.

"Well, I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, now could I".

"My my, Eames, how courteous," came the jeer.

Eames raised an eyebrow in response, with a sarcastic smile. "I think you'll find I'm the height of courtesy when I want to be Arthur. And after all. We survived another job without killing each other. A feat I personally think should be rewarded."

"I'd love to stay and celebrate your ability to restrain yourselves," Ariadne said wryly, "buy I only have a couple of hours before my flight to Paris."

"And will we be seeing you on the circuit again, do we think?" Eames said knowingly. Ariadne flashed a grin, and turned back towards departures.

Arthur and Eames watched her walk away, then turned back and regarded each other defiantly; but it was weighted. There was something about experiencing something like they just had, sharing dreams but also the thrill of the chase and ultimate success, that affects your relationship with a person. It's an intimacy of sorts.

"So, until the next time", Arthur smirked, and walked out the door. Eames stood rooted for a few moments longer, then resolved to go find that taxi.


	2. Chapter 2

It was two months before he received the call.

Arthur had found it customarily easy to slip back into 'normal' life. His skills as a point man were usefully close to that of a personal assistant, and he could always rely on finding something administrative and legitimate during the intermittent months. But he always expected the call. Someone, somewhere, with work. Real work. The kind he lived for.

This job was, relatively, a return to the norm. Extraction for a company who had found a mole and needed to find out who had placed them there. Arthur had standard procedure, but it was tailoring to the specifics that brought the excitement. That, and pulling it off.

For a moment, Arthur considered calling Cobb. He has become so accustomed to their working style, it seemed unnatural to be approaching this without him. But there's no way he'd take it. He hadn't even heard from him in over a month. As far as he could tell, Cobb was finally getting back a bit of his own 'normal' life he'd missed for so long. Arthur was fairly certain he'd be back one day, but it would be wrong to pressure him so soon. In that case, maybe he wouldn't use a specialised Extractor. Arthur was an accomplished extractor himself, and the balance was more about finding the right team and establishing a plan. He would avoid bringing in new people where possible.

Yusuf was experienced and reliable, and wouldn't need to go into the dream itself unless the job proved particularly complex. The same would go for the architect. Ariadne was in the middle of a college term back in Paris, but something told Arthur she would be more than happy to skive a couple of weeks. He had seen how she'd taken to it; as everyone did. The draw, that really wasn't like anything you could experience in reality. Arthur thought back to that moment on the last job, on that second level. He knew he'd taken a liberty getting her to kiss him. He'd taken advantage of the moment, and her trust in his experience of the dream state. But really he'd kissed her just because he wanted to. She was nice, and gifted, and had the wide-eyed fascination of a novice. It was light, and fleeting, and didn't really mean anything. Which was nice.

Finally the last, most irksome appointment. He knew the mission could use a forger, and a talented one at that, as the mark would undoubtedly be trained if they had been working undercover themselves. He would need someone highly skilled and experienced; someone he could trust. Well the first part he had down. He was fairly sure Eames would take the job. They would nitpick at each other constantly, but Arthur knew that they worked well together. Professionally. They had something.

Arthur sighed. Paused. And resolved. Time to assemble the troops.


	3. Chapter 3

Eames turned the heavy metal doorknob, feeling the satisfying weight click in his hand, and walked into the warehouse. It was standard practice to use a different warehouse for each job, to ensure they weren't discovered, but they somehow all managed to look the same. Tables covered in papers and metal briefcases, boards with early versions of mapped-out plans, and of course appropriate numbers of reclining chairs. He hadn't been exactly sure who Arthur would have chosen for the team but, most of the time, he was predictable. Today, evidentially, was "most of the time".

He walked up to the chair Ariadne was slouching on, and she smiled at him warmly.

"Hey chook, glad to be back?"

"Of course. Lectures seemed so mundane, you have no idea."

"Ohh, I have an inkling," Eames assured, sitting in the chair next to her. "Besides I bet all those architects don't have the same sparkling personalities, like our very own point man here", he gestured grandly to Arthur, who entered from the other end of the room, and glared witheringly at Eames.

"Right, we might as well get started then," Arthur announced, carefully directing the conversation to the job at hand, as Yusuf brought in some final briefcases and set them on one of the tables.

"The job should be straightforward. The client runs a large manufacturing company, and they've discovered a mole in their senior offices. Unsurprisingly, they want to know who put them there. We are to expect company on the inside, as they will undoubtedly have had training. We don't yet know how much, as this obviously depends on the strength of the people putting them up to it. So, with that in mind, lets talk strategy."

"So, it's just the four of us, and we're all going in?" Eames interjected first.

Arthur hesitated for a millisecond, before blankly stating, "Well that will depend on the plan. We may need as many people in battle as possible. Alternatively, it might not be necessary to have a chemist or architect actually in the field."

Eames paused, surprised. "Are you suggesting we go in, just the two of us?"

"Nice to see your math skills can reach as far as two, Eames." Arthur's sardonic tone was impatient, but his eyes didn't lift from the sheets in his hand. He could feel Eames's stare from across the room, but refused to rise to it. Without Cobb, he was leading the mission, and he did not want to let Eames distract from this position of newfound authority.

Ariadne and Yusuf shared a look. They were used to the taunting exchange between the two men, but something implied that without Cobb and Saito to calm the balance, there might be ...friction.

"Okay, so what do we actually know about the mark?" Ariadne reigned in the focus.

"Uh, well actually, frustratingly little," Arthur tried not to look flustered.

"Correct me if I'm wrong here, but isn't it your job to do the research, research man?" Eames couldn't resist an opportunity to goad, but it was true that if the mark was trained, this job was likely to be harder than Arthur was letting on.

"Eames, you just worry about your little impersonations, and let me focus on the big stuff."

"See that's the thing, it would help if I knew who I was impersonating..."

Yusuf sat up in his chair. "Um, can I just ask? Are we thinking one level or two? I'm guessing two would be more appropriate but it does depend on how many you of us want in the dreamworld, and how much the mark is likely to resist."

Arthur perched on the end of the table. "No, you're right, we'll want two levels, to be thorough. In short, the mark is 34, male, and had been posing as one of the company's most promising executives. In this instance, they've captured and are detaining him, so we'll need those two levels in order to detract his subconscious from the fact he's currently imprisoned and has possibly been tortured. Our ultimate aim is to discover who is, actually, behind his having been planted."

"I'm just going to take a stab in the dark here," Eames began to interrupt.

"Why does that not surprise me," Arthur muttered.

"What was that Arthur? Nothing of interest? I'll carry on then," came the sharp retort. "As I was saying, we can probably guess there's a rival company wanting to steal information, therefore planted the mole to learn all their dirty little secrets, either to expose or emulate them."

"Well done Eames. You're grasp on the obvious is unfailing."

Ariadne cleared her throat loudly. Arthur glanced over, slightly embarrassed, and recollected himself. He was determined to prove his independence from Cobb to the group.

"It is, yes, most likely that a rival company is behind it, and I've started collating information on the most likely candidates, as explained here," he said as he started handing round information sheets. "However as always motivation is key, so my suggestion is that Eames go and observe the man being held, maybe see what we can glean from him in person, not to mention his old colleagues when planted in the company, and I'll continue my research. This should give us a better idea on the specific types of compounds Yusuf will need to create, and the kind of layouts most suitable for Ariadne to work with. The whole point of us going in there is to extract the information from him, so we don't need to be too concerned with getting actual information beforehand. We just need to ensure he'll take to the dreamscape, and provide without too much interference. Uh, any questions?"

Arthur scratched the back of his neck in what he hoped looked a nonchalant movement, and risked a glance round at the group. They were all studying the information sheets intently, and he was glad he'd had something to show them, even if he was masking how little he actually knew. He'd worked with moles before, but this one seemed particularly adept, and he was concerned his simple extraction job was going to prove complicated.

Slowly the group responded, with Ariadne giving Arthur an impressed smile, Yusuf nodding agreement, and Eames, lips pursed in concentration, flashing a glance to verify he was on the same page. Arthur silently exhaled relief. Nothing had happened, but he could tell he'd been accepted.

"Ok then, to the drawing board."


	4. Chapter 4

Three days later, they were on their way for what Arthur had jokingly called a 'field trip'. It had been decided that the group should go to the company owned by the client, to get a better feel for what they were working with. A casualty of working in less-than-legal territory was that clients themselves could never really be trusted. However, it was their job to take a slight leap of faith and assume that it was the people behind the mole who were at fault, not the client; or at least appear to assume this.

This outing was to be crucial for several reasons, as had been discussed back at the warehouse.

"Without knowing who was behind the implantation", Arthur had explained, "It's probably best that Eames impersonate one of the mole's colleagues from when he was posing at the company. Hopefully we can then try and fool his subconscious into thinking he's not been discovered yet. That way he should be more relaxed around us, and with any luck more, uh, forthcoming."

Eames looked up at him over his information sheets. "There is of course another way to try and, heh heh, 'relax' him in the dream state; one that's tried and tested, and usually successful... Well isn't it true that people respond most warmly to those who they find, shall we say, pleasing?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting that you _seduce_ him? I'm really not sure that would be appropriate, let alone moral…"

"Oh come on Arthur, none of this is moral, we're thieves for fuck's sake. And I'm not intending on prostituting myself, although your assumption I would is very flattering." Eames's sarcasm was laced with acidity as the men's eyes locked in their own silent battle. "I'm merely suggesting that if we to want to be _persuasive_, there are ways and means at our disposal. I have a large repertoire of impersonations; I'm sure we could find someone 'suitable' for him."

Arthur considered. To be sure, Eames had done similar work before, even fleetingly in the last job. But this was different, and taking the mark onside to try and spill secrets he'd be trained to conceal would take a lot of 'persuading'.

Eames took a deep breath and leveled his voice. "I'm only trying to do what's best for the job. If you have any better ideas, by all means speak up."

Arthur resolved. "No, you're right, that probably would, uh, help. In that case, how about this for an approach: two levels. First level as some form of party, maybe try to pass it as an office event, in which Eames could try and acquire as many clues from the mark as possible. Second level, we'll need to steal the information so something with plenty of hidden corners or vaults. Any ideas Ariadne?"

She shifted in her chair, contemplating. "Uh yeah actually, how about a maze? Cobb had me practicing them all the time in the last job, and I could get you loads of hideouts for him to fill with secrets. Maybe disguise it as a library? Sounds a bit inane, but trust me, the one at my college is pretty difficult to navigate." Encouraged by appreciative nods rippling round the others, she ventured "And for the first level, it sounds basic, but we could just use a hotel? One with big function rooms for an office party. But also some private areas," she added, winking at Eames, who rolled his eyes in response.

Arthur's suggestion they visited the mark, and the offices where he had been working, had been met with conjoined curiosity and apprehension. The main offices were located in Munich, Germany. The client had told them that, since for obvious reasons their identities and occupations would have to be clandestine, they would be greeted at head office as if they were a special branch of private investigators, which Yusuf had pointed out, they kind of were.

The cab pulled up outside a colossal building seemingly constructed of slate-coloured glass. Its slight translucency, with murky indiscernible figures moving on the other side, made it all the more ominous. The stern woman on the front desk personally led the group, who exchanged wary glances, up eleven floors in a similarly coloured steel elevator. She guided them through a succession of password-protected, identification-activated doors, separated by excessively long corridors, and past increasingly surly security men. More than once Ariadne found herself stifling a snigger at the sheer exorbitance of it all. At length, the nameless woman brought them to an imposing, white door, guarded by two of the surliest.

"I have Mr. Werner's ten o'clock", she announced brusquely, and the man on the right reached to open the large door, gesturing for the group to enter. They filed through into a large, comparatively light room with an air of clinical professionalism.

"You must be Arthur."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for your kind reviews. As noted, my chapters so far have been fairly short, but the aim is, as it gets deeper into the plot, they'll get meatier! Also, thus far I've managed to update fairly regularly; I aim to continue to do so, but am about to go on holiday, where I am uncertain of my internet connection. However I shall keep writing so that if I find an internet cafe I can upload! Thank you for reading, and I hope you like what is to come.

* * *

The voice came from nowhere.

"You must be Arthur. And his associates, of course."

They turned around to be confronted by a man, seated in a white leather chair behind a desk, dressed in all in black. He looked strangely out of place with the light room; the walls were white, and most of the furniture glass, in fitting with the glass of the structure. It couldn't help but be sinister in stark comparison with the dimness of the rest of the building.

Arthur stepped forward. "Yes, nice to finally meet you Mr. Warner. I have briefed my team on the situation, and would appreciate a chance to see the environment in which the mark had been working."

The man said nothing, but gestured to four chairs placed in front of the desk. The group obliged and sat down. Without warning, the chairs produced steel restrains from between folds of white leather, making it impossible for them to stand. In the same moment, two more guards entered and roughly searched them, presumably, for weapons.

They spluttered objections and various barks of irritation that stemmed mostly from panic. This was not the way in which they liked to work. Arthur's mind was racing, trying to determine what they could physically do if this turned out to be a trap. It suddenly occurred to him just how vulnerable they were.

As the guards finished rooting through their clothing, only finding one handgun, which belonged to Eames (who merely shrugged at Arthur's warning look), a concealed door opened in the wall. An older, slighter man in a light grey suit entered the room and the truth dawned on Arthur.

"My apologies. You can understand with an operation as… sensitive as this, I would have to take precautions."

As the guards left and the group's restraints were released, the man in the chair stood up and went to take position standing next to the main door, as Warner took his place in the chair. He looked about 45, bridging the gap between 'older generation, experienced businessman' and 'young, driver career shark'. It was a formidable combination.

"Mr Warner, I appreciate your concern, but this was… You found us through recommendation, I assumed? This wasn't necessary. If you don't trust us, and I do mean _entirely_, then this arrangement isn't going to work. I must stress the intricacy of the work we do; it's fragile, and we need to know that you will uphold your end, or the entire operation with be jeopardised." Arthur spoke with heavy earnestness and more than a little irritation. Warner was playing games with them, which was not only degrading, but dangerous. Plus he could feel the uncertainty of the rest of the group radiating and he needed to assure them he hadn't led them to the lion's den.

Warner laughed. "Well it is done, and it seems you are what you say, so I am happy"; he spoke in a thick German accent. "Although I would prefer if you didn't bring weapons into my building" he added looking at Eames. "Now, how is it we might be able to help you?"

Arthur inwardly sighed, deciding it would be diplomatic to drop the issue for now. "We need to take a look around your offices. We want to get a feel for the environment the mark worked in, so we can reproduce some of that atmosphere in the dream. Since we know little about his true background, we're going to work with what we have."

Warner seemed to contemplate for a moment before answering, "This we can arrange. I simply ask that you are accompanied by one of my guards, and if anyone asks you say you are representatives from a prospective partner company."

"I thought we were to pose as private detectives?" Eames voiced the query on all their minds.

"You are Mr. Eames, am I right? Very perceptive, Eames. Yes I have told my senior members of staff that you are private detectives, however I would prefer even they do not discover the specific nature of your… methods of detection. Only my personal assistant, Claus", he gestured to the black-suited man still standing statuesque by the door, "and myself know the full details of the assignment. But the majority of my staff do not even know we have an infiltrator; and I would like it to stay that way." Warner spoke with an amiable demeanour, but there was menace behind every syllable.

"We can agree to this. Thank you for your time, Mr. Warner."

"My pleasure. It has been very useful to meet you. Auf wiedersehn."

The group rose and exited, as Warner watched from his seat. Once outside the door, and a reasonable few feet from the guards still either side, the group turned to Arthur expectantly.

Ariadne was the first to speak. "How could you not know it was him? I can't believe we were ambushed like that. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been? No-one knows I'm here Arthur. We would have just disappeared."

"Alright, calm down." It was Eames who answered, to Arthur's surprise. "Arthur won't have known what he looked like before we went in; companies this big can keep identities secret if they want to. A bribe here or there and security cameras mysteriously crash when he's in the area. Besides, initial hostility is common. This is the circuit; don't make me say 'We're not in Kansas anymore'…", he winked and rubbed her shoulder.

"Thanks," Arthur said.

"_You_", Eames turned to him, "are a plonker."

Arthur gritted his teeth and decided to let it go. There was nothing he could have done to prevent the situation, and it seemed the group were aware of this; but he was still the leader so he'd accept responsibility and move on.

"So where do you want us to go first?" Yusuf asked.

"I think if we split into pairs, then two of us can go down to level six, where he worked, and the other two I think should take a look round the cafeterias and break rooms on level four."

Eames answered quickly. "Right, I'm definitely taking the break rooms; too much corporate stench up here. Besides, cafeterias are ideal for people-watching." He noticed Ariadne, still looking stony-faced, adding "And I'll take this one with me. I think a break in the break room is just what the doctor ordered."

"Right, then Yusuf and I will check out level six; make sure you keep your pagers on, to arrange when we're done. Now, I guess we should pick a guard…"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** _Long_ hiatus! Took three years out to go to university, where life was pretty distracting. I recently graduated and am catching up on everything that was forgotten, such as this fanfic. I won't make any grandiose promises about finishing it (I do now have to get a job...) but for the moment am enjoying a little foray back into writing. Enjoy!

* * *

Ariadne and Eames collected coffees from the counter and selected a table in the middle of the cafeteria. It was conveniently located for surveillance without being too conspicuous, and their guard had remained posted at the entrance, just far enough away to be out of earshot.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Eames watched the businessmen over the rim of his mug, his eyes tracing the patterns in their movements. Ariadne stared at her coffee. At length Eames prised his attention back to the sombre woman in front of him, his chin resting on his hand.

"Hey." She looked up at him. "It _is_ alright. You know that."

She sighed in quiet frustration. "Yeah I do. But…" She didn't bother to search for the words, knowing none were adequate but that Eames understood anyway.

Ariadne stirred her coffee pointlessly. "I probably overreacted but I think I'm justified in taking this seriously. Plus Arthur knows I like him really."

Eames looked at her in contemplation. "Huh. Well I had wondered."

Ariadne looked up at him quickly. "Oh, no I didn't mean… I mean he's nice but…"

"Hey, you don't need to justify yourself to me, jesus," Eames raised his hands in amused mock-defence.

Ariadne chuckled at her own embarrassment. "Well we did kiss once. But NO." And she was staring at her coffee again.

Eames continued to watch her, finding far more interest in the subject before him than the businessmen and women he was there to study. "It's Cobb, isn't it".

Ariadne's eyes shot up then, as much at his matter-of-factness as the words themselves. She flustered a little but after a moment resigned; "Yeah."

"Yeah", he echoed. There was this self-conscious guilt in her face, like she'd been caught shoplifting. He could tell she understood the situation, but nonetheless began "You know that…"

"Yeah, I know," she cut him off. Cobb had been so consumed by the memory of Mal and his own guilt, founded on the powerful relationship he had had with her before she died; and Ariadne was aware of the futility of her affection.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed, kid. I could see there was something between you two, even if it couldn't go anywhere. Plus, it's Cobb. He's got something."

Ariadne emerged from her humiliation, her curiosity peaked; "Did you and he…?"

Eames laughed. "No, no. It wasn't like that. It was both of them, to be honest. Him and Mal together; there was something irresistible about them. The way they sparked off each other, it made you want to be a part of it. But at the same time not want to touch it. It was untouchable."

Eames emerged from his reminisce and could see the effect his recollections were having on Ariadne. Her features were taut in an artificial neutrality. He quickly added, "But that was a long time ago. Things were difficult towards the end. And since then… Well, it was all a long time ago really. I wasn't there. Arthur was. Besides, Cobb's not going to be stuck in the past forever. At some point he's going to need to move on, and he might want some help with that."

Ariadne smiled at her mug. She considered herself a realist and didn't have high hopes. Cobb was forging a new life as a father and, though she had no concern about age gaps, was aware they were at very different stages in life. But it was kind of Eames to indulge her. "Well that took my mind off Arthur," she chuckled wryly. "When did Arthur and Cobb start working together?"

"Oh, Arthur's been in this wonderful business about as long as I have." Eames sipped his coffee nonchalantly, but Ariadne didn't miss the weight in his phrasing.

She eyed him inquisitively.

"Come on Ariadne. You never thought it was curious that Arthur's totem is a loaded die and mine is a poker chip? Coincidental? You're one of the most astute people I've ever met. Don't let me down now(!)"

The architect leaned forward unconsciously, her eyes wide, and lowered her voice secretively. "Are you telling me that you did your first job together? Did you get recruited together? How long have you _known_ each other?"

Eames smirked, but felt suddenly awkward about the anecdote he had initiated. He did not quite know why he had invited this turn in the conversation; he wanted to assert the connection for some reason, boast of it, even. But now, Ariadne's expectant eyes before him, it seemed too much, like he was telling a stranger his bank details. It was private.

"Let's just say there's a reason Cobb tried to keep us apart if possible. Not the best track record."

"But were you on your first job together?" she persisted, eyes fixed on his and shining with intrigue.

Pointedly changing the conversation, he sarcastically replied "Congratulations, it only took my practically spelling it out for you to catch on. But that's another story for another time, my love. The man himself would clench in his expensively-tailored suit if he knew we'd been down here for half an hour and not yet done any actual work."

Ariadne leaned back in her chair, eyes lingering on Eames in suspicion. "All right," she conceded, "but don't think I'm forgetting about this. You owe me a story." He saluted in mock submission, before similarly reclining to return to his people-watching. His mind, however, refused to budge. Fairly certain that this job was about to take a turn for the complicated, Ariadne would be distracted enough to forget his little anecdote. Once the job was over she'd be whisked off to Paris before anything could jog her memory. He was safe.

Of course, there was nothing to stop _him_ going over the events. His thoughts traced over the edge, cautiously conjuring those hazy first details as, with a final mouthful of coffee, he drifted into reminiscence.


End file.
